


For The Asking

by LadyDrace



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alpha Derek Hale, Alternate Canon, Banter, Consent, Fluff, Getting Together, Kissing, M/M, POV Derek, POV Derek Hale, Present Tense, Tears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-01-13
Packaged: 2018-05-13 19:16:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5714008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDrace/pseuds/LadyDrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one ever thought to ask Derek before...</p>
            </blockquote>





	For The Asking

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as a secret santa gift for [Rigel126](http://rigel126.tumblr.com/), originally posted [here](http://stereksecretsanta.tumblr.com/post/135858550638/merry-christmas-rigel126).
> 
> Betaed by Mithrel. Thanks, darling!

Stiles asks the first time on a Monday. They're both dripping with goop from something that they all thought was a water spirit, but turned out to be more of a _phlegm_ spirit. And its death was gross in the extreme.

 

“Can I kiss you?”

 

Derek freezes in the middle of wiping slime off his face, and stares at Stiles, who happened to end up almost on top of him as everything collapsed with the dead goo monster.

 

“What?!”

 

Stiles shrugs, eyes staying fixed on Derek's face for another few seconds before he moves away.

 

“Nothing ventured, nothing gained,” he mumbles and sloshes away, maroon jeans darker in patches where the slime hit. Derek is left on the ground, staring after him, wondering what the hell just happened.

 

***

 

The second time it's a Saturday. The pack is at the loft, filling the empty space with noise and life, and Derek is annoyed, but at the same time also just so relieved not to be alone. Even years after they finally became a coherent unit it's still a surprise to him every time the pack chooses voluntarily to spend time with him. It probably helped that he stopped giving orders. They still don't listen to him a lot, but asking nicely seems to make things happen _sometimes_ , which is better than never.

 

Once he'd finally decided that Derek was in fact _not_ the devil, even Scott came around, and though he still doesn't like it, he will allow that Derek is his alpha, in name if nothing else. And that's all Derek feels he can ask for.

 

He does need to rest his ears every now and then, and while the others are arguing and yelling at the huge TV screen they all bought for him, because he was too slow to buy one on his own, Derek lets himself out onto the balcony for some air. Stiles follows him, quieter than he used to be, but still about as subtle as a giraffe.

 

He takes up position next to Derek, looking out over Beacon Hills, the lights of Beacon Valley twinkling in the distance, easy to see on such a clear night. The noise level inside goes up and down with the action on the screen, and Stiles turns to look at him. Derek looks back, eyebrow raised in question. He's not sure what's happening with Stiles, but things have been different for a while, even before the slime monster incident. It's subtle, yet it's everywhere, in everything Stiles does around Derek. Something that makes Derek want to simultaneously come closer and pull away, though he struggles to put actual words to it.

 

While Derek is lost in his thoughts, Stiles is still looking at him, eyes heavy-lidded and slow where they trace Derek's face in a way that seems almost palpable.

 

“Can I kiss you?” Stiles asks again, voice barely making a sound in the night around them.

 

Derek isn't sure what to say, and shifts with unease. He's never been asked, not before Stiles, and last time could probably be explained away by the adrenaline rush. But this time it's quiet and calm, and Derek's not sure what the protocol is. If he says no, will Stiles be upset or keep his distance? If he says yes, does that mean they're dating?

 

There's a reason Derek's past romantic experience has been exclusively with the kind of people who take what they want when they want. Derek was never very good at these things.

 

After a while Stiles lets out a small sigh, but also sends Derek a crooked smile. “It's cool. I'll ask again another time.”

 

There's no stutter of his heart, and Derek is left a little stunned as Stiles goes back inside.

 

***

 

It's Monday again, and Derek is frowning down at a packet of ground beef. He spends several minutes trying to guess whether one jumbo packet will be enough for himself and the betas, until he reminds himself that they're werewolves, and grabs two more. Stiles will probably eat the leftovers anyway, seeing as he's a bottomless pit.

 

As if summoned by the very thought of his name, Stiles flails around a corner barely a second later, perusing the cereal shelves like it's a matter of life and death. He grabs a box, seemingly at random, and makes it three long, flailing steps towards checkout before he spots Derek, skids to a halt hilariously, and makes a beeline for him.

 

“Derek! Thank fuck, answer your damn phone, oh my god,” he pants, and tosses the cereal into Derek's basket a little too violently, denting the corner of the box. Derek glares, and Stiles wags a stern finger at him. “Nuh-uh, this is _not_ on me, Big Guy. Check your phone before you embarrass yourself.”

 

Derek glares one more time for good measure before fishing out his phone. It turns out to be mysteriously dead, and no amount of patient button-pressing seems to bring it back to life at all.

 

“Yeah, I dunno, mine croaked almost immediately after the phlegm blob, I'm amazed yours has lasted this long,” Stiles explains, and Derek groans, because that would have been useful to know sometime _prior_ to this. But Stiles is brilliant, not practical. So Derek tosses his dead phone at him, which distracts him enough that Derek can steal the decidedly newer phone out of Stiles' hoodie pocket, and find out what's going on. Stiles hasn't even stopped flailing around by the time Derek gets to his texts.

 

It turns out Erica's period arrived, and she's desperate enough for cocoa-saturated cereal that she turned to Stiles when Derek didn't pick up. Her usual method of vague threats to life and limb were obviously effective, seeing as Stiles is currently supposed to be working on his thesis.

 

Derek hands back the phone, and Stiles doesn't even seem that annoyed that Derek took it. He just slaps the dead one against Derek's chest, and pockets his own again. “See? Aren't you glad I stopped you before you could say something at least one of us would regret?”

 

It looks like his next move involves leaving, and Derek refuses to let him have the last word, so he yanks him to a halt a little too hard, which brings them almost nose to nose. Derek takes a moment to enjoy the shocked surprise in Stiles' eyes and heartbeat before holding the cereal under Stiles' nose.

 

“She likes the Nesquik stuff, not Count Chocula.”

 

Stiles blinks, like he's coming back from somewhere far away, and instead of a response that would make sense, he instead chooses that moment to ask again.

 

“Can I kiss you?”

 

If Derek had found an answer to that yet, he sure as Hell wouldn't give it in the middle of a semi-busy grocery store, and he rattles the cereal box between them.

 

“Right. Right, not the time,” Stiles murmurs, eyes downcast as he trudges back to the cereal shelves, and for the first time Derek gets the thought that he might not be the only one who's confused.

 

***

 

It's early Sunday, and Derek is doing dishes. The last pack members had left Derek's loft around one in the morning, and he'd felt too mentally drained by then to try and tackle the clean-up before falling into bed. Predictably, Stiles shows up just before noon, claiming he's there to lend a hand, but Derek knows he's mostly there for leftover chili.

 

“I should just get some Tupperware or something, so you can take it home next time,” Derek grumbles without heat as he's wiping the coffee table. Stiles snorts from the kitchen area where he's reheating the food.

 

“But then I wouldn't get to come and bug you on a Sunday, now, would I?” Stiles argues lightly, like it doesn't mean anything. But it does. Derek stops dead as he realizes what's changed. Stiles is coming to _him_ , now, where at first they only seemed to interact when Derek happened upon him for one reason or another. And it's all the time, too. Not only voluntarily, but happily, Stiles chattering and bantering and snarking, but always wanting to be there. He used to just tag along with the pack, but there's no one else in sight now, and the more Derek thinks about it, the more times he remembers Stiles making an effort to spend time alone with him. For months, now, if not a year.

 

“What, no snappy comeback?” Stiles chirps, and Derek finally moves again.

 

“Why bother when it's true? You do bug me.”

 

Stiles grins as Derek comes up to the sink to rinse out the cloth. “Damn right I do, it's like my super power.”

 

Derek turns to look at him, and Stiles blinks in surprise when he notices. “What?”

 

“Ask me again,” Derek says quietly, because he gets it, now. Finally.

 

Stiles freezes briefly, before putting the lid on the pot and turning off the burner. He's slow to face Derek, though, like he's expecting the worst, but Derek doesn't know what to do to help that, seeing as he still doesn't know how these things are normally done.

 

Eventually, though, Stiles is facing him, eyes tracing his features with a small frown, every sense telling Derek how tense and nervous he is, unlike the previous times that felt like spur-of-the-moment things. This is heavier. Significant. _Important_.

 

“Can I kiss you?”

 

“Yes,” Derek breathes, and there's a brief flash of a delighted smile on Stiles' face before he leans in.

 

It's a slow, cautious thing, soft and searching, and somehow so unlike _Stiles_ that Derek feels like the rug has been pulled out from under him. It makes him feel off-kilter and vulnerable and his eyes sting with tears. But Stiles doesn't mock or take advantage, like everyone else has before him. He simply kisses them away as they fall, asking Derek again and again with every careful press of lips.

 

That's when Derek realizes that it was never spur of the moment. It was always important.

 

End.

 


End file.
